Клэр Белл - The Named - The Complete Series

“Feels good,” he said, his voice muffled by the hide between his teeth. “I won’t fall off.”

“Move around a little,” Thakur said.

Ashon shifted his weight. The hide stayed in place.

“Good, it’s not slipping. All right, cub, get down.”

Ashon hopped off the dappleback, who lowered her head and gave him a friendly nudge.

“Let’s make a few more of these hides and try them on the other herdbeasts,” Thakur suggested. “Ratha, what do you think?”

“I think that you have all done very well,” she answered, impressed by the accomplishment. Keep working with it.”

As they turned once more to the task, Ratha took her leave and set about once more on her rounds.

She enjoyed her people’s often startling inventiveness. It might well be that quality that would see them through instead of strength, determination, or even the protection of the Red Tongue.

When the sun was lower, Ratha went with Thakur and two cubs, Mishanti and Ashon, to the dappleback herd. The horses liked the mixture of sunlight and shade of the meadow’s edge.

Thakur stopped, nosed the two cubs forward.“Each one of you, choose a dappleback.”

Mishanti wrinkled his nose in a squint that wrinkled his tear-lines as he peered hard at the animals. He slid his paws forward, bowing his spine and arching his tail over his back until it nearly touched his shoulders. Then he made his decision, pawing in the air to point.“That one. Smells tame. Faded spots, white-speckled mane.”

“Ashon?”

The cub sat down and calmly surveyed the herd.“The light tan mare with black legs.”

Obviously the cubs were making choices based on their experience. The selected animals showed small scratch-scars on their shoulders, sides, and rumps.

The dapplebacks were lazy and not inclined to bolt and run. Together Ratha and Thakur strolled into the herd and easily separated out one horse at a time. They then turned each dappleback over to the cub that had picked it. Ratha watched, inhaling the horsey dry-grass aroma as the cubs exercised their herding skills by driving each dappleback in turn to the old oak. There, treelings would tie on the protective hide and the holding strap.

Ratha stayed close to Mishanti, and Thakur watched Ashon to make sure the cubs’ intended mounts didn’t have a burst of spirit and escape the young herders.

“Bet your dappleback throws you off,” Mishanti teased Ashon. Ratha noticed that the smaller cub’s speech was getting better, more understandable. He was using clan inflections and losing some of the oddities he had picked up from Thistle.

“Bet yours steps on your tail,” Ashon taunted back. He was taller and leaner than Mishanti, although he was actually younger. Ashon was one of Drani’s sons from her latest litter. Although where he’d gotten that silky background color and silver tipping on his face and feet, Ratha had no idea.

The cub would be beautiful when his spots faded completely. His appearance made Ratha think of the two male cubs from her first and only litter. Thistle-chaser’s siblings — they would be nearly full grown by now. Ratha wondered briefly what they looked and smelled like. Their smell would be similar to hers and Thistle’s, but with the distinctly male variation.

Her ears went back and down at the sharp bite of sorrow, but she swatted the feeling away before it could take hold. Having Thistle back was an unexpected gift; finding any of her brothers would be even more unlikely.

Quickly Ratha brought her attention back to Mishanti. He was getting distracted, letting his dappleback stray and graze. She trotted alongside the horse, giving it a meaningful glance to let it know that she was watching, even it Mishanti wasn’t.

Despite Thakur’s teaching and patience, Mishanti just wasn’t a very good herder. She was thankful that Ashon was shaping up to be an excellent herder, perhaps even good enough to become a teacher, like Thakur. That demonstration with the face-tail had been more than impressive, and Ratha liked the cub’s spirit. Ashon also paid full attention to what he was doing. His dappleback moved on briskly, with no hint of straying.

When the party arrived at the old oak, several other herding students held each horse gently with their forepaws while treelings tied the straps under its belly, beneath its tail, and across its chest. Though the horses tossed their heads and squealed, the hold-on strap went over their ears and down their short manes, resting around their shoulders.

Mishanti was eager to climb aboard, but Ratha delayed him, having him join with other young herders to surround the horse and escort it to the riding area. Ashon watched as his hide-draped dappleback was also ringed and moved. The cub looked calm, but Ratha could see his tail tip jumping like a cornered mouse in the grass.

Both cubs could hardly suppress their excitement as they followed their mounts. Ratha and Thakur trailed a short distance behind them. More of the Named joined them, curious about what was happening.

“All right,” announced Thakur, when they reached the show area. “Now pay attention. You, especially, Mishanti,” he warned when he saw the cub staring across the low grass at the assembled onlookers.

“Know rules,” Mishanti grumbled.

“Listen anyway,” Ratha hissed.

Thakur repeated the guidelines. The cubs competed in pairs, and the one who fell on the ground first was the loser. The thrown rider was to get his or her tail safely out of the arena, leaving the dappleback to be rounded up by the herders. Claws could be sunk into the protective pad only. Clawing or biting the horse would get a cub disqualified, as would an attempt to scratch his opponent’s mount. An accidental collision was allowed, but not a deliberate one.

Barely waiting for Thakur’s command to start, Mishanti and Ashon galloped to their dapplebacks. The herders held each beast steady as Ratha lifted Mishanti on by the scruff, pawed the hold strap into his mouth, and saw that he was securely settled on his pad. Thakur did the same with Ashon.

Ratha spoke quickly to Mishanti.“Remember, if it gets too wild, or Ashon’s dappleback gets too close to yours, jump off.”

The dappleback holders moved both animals apart. This would minimize the chances of a collision at the start.

“Ready?” Thakur howled, “Go!”

The herders in front of each cub-dappleback pair retreated quickly. Each little horse sprang free to the sound of cheers from the audience. Both cubs had supporters who yowled encouragement.

“Stay on him, Mishanti!” Among the voices, Ratha heard Fessran’s and Thistle’s.

“Ashon, show that daughter of a dappleback who is the herder!” That cry was from Thakur. Ratha decided to encourage both cubs and added her voice to the tumult.

The gray cub’s mount reared and plunged, throwing its rider’s hindquarters into the air. Ashon clung with his foreclaws, cub-fangs sunk deeply into the hold-on strap, tail whirling for balance.

Mishanti’s mount was more of a runner than a bucker, but the herders blocked its path, forcing it back into the arena. It then decided to scrape Mishanti off against a tree, but the cub was ready. Claws securely fastened in the pad, Mishanti hung his body over the opposite side. When the dappleback triedto rub him off on the opposite side, the cub hung the other way.

He almost lost his hold and he did lose his satisfied grin when the dappleback leaped up, trying to slam the cub against a low-hanging bough. He flattened, barely avoiding getting mashed.

Ashon’s dappleback bucked in tight, stiff-legged circles, snapping the cub’s head back and forth, but he clung with the same determination he had showed while mastering the young face-tail.

A“ Yeharrrooow!” was jerked out of Mishanti as his mount leaped and twisted beneath him. It reared, flailing its four-toed feet and jerking Mishanti’s front claws loose. He slid backward on his pad, and the hold-on strap ripped out of his mouth. The little horse threw its heels up and its head down, standing on its front feet. The dappleback’s kicking handstand brought the cub’s tail and hindquarters into abrupt contact with the horse’s rump. Mishanti sailed high in the air, tumbling and squalling.